this morning i had a bowl of cereal
it was a big bowl and there were many cornflakes
thank you bowl of cereal
i talked to noah cicero about the bowl and he suggested that i use it again
i set the bowl aside to be washed and engaged in more empty banter with noah
noah is my best friend
noah is my only friend
everyone else should probably have one friend
too many friends spoil the broth
if everyone else has only one friend, then they should also probably have a blog
there they can express themselves
and publicly embarass themselves with tales of trying to get a fun gig
i am a genius
you can be too
I heart you immensely.
Notes from an Underground Hamster
I am sick. I am a sick hamster.
my mother she tells me.
You are sick hamster.
Full of mucas.
My new name is Darby “Serious Literature” Groffinchewber.
Call me that.
I will answer your emails.
Tell me your heart.
On the arid plain.
Fishing with nets made of unsold POD books.
For tuna and the jabberwocky.
We catch nothing.
chapter 2.
The jabberwocky sits with me.
At a table.
Made of salmen rushdie’s best lines.
And it eats me.
I scream, “Ow, no, don’t chew on my hamster head!”
This is depressing.
Groffinchewber?
Well, at least he offered an interesting misspelling of mucus. And who knew that Rushdie was secretly a team of authors named Sal?
I do like the story. It made me laugh.
You should write more about me, much more.
Always remember to link though. That is very important, the link to the “get published or die tryin blog.”
Who wants to lay money on die tryin’?
(Is my holiday bitchiness emerging already?)
the hamster with no friends
‘ha ha, you have no friends,’ said a man
the hamster was sad
‘ha ha, you are sad,’ said the man
the hamster went home and died of bleeding
because he fell
The hamster started a blog that he thought contained clever ideas.
The ideas were not as clever as the hamster thought they were.
The hamster died of stupidity.